


It's colder, regardless

by Leuny (Aibhilin)



Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aibhilin/pseuds/Leuny
Summary: Kuroba Kaito thinks that at least three people know about his night-time job, one of them dead. What if...? AN: I am disregarding the truth about Phantom Lady. This was written BEFORE the last few manga chapters came out. Read at your own risk!This is one of those fanfics that I pulled over from ff.net, meaning I'll clean up grammar/spelling mistakes and/or expand upon it later on. As such, the tags on ff.net were as follows:Magic Kaito/まじっく快斗 - Rated: K - English - Family/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 13 - Words: 23,083 - Reviews: 7 - Updated: 12/23/2011 - Published: 11/1/2011 - Kaito K. - CompleteI will update this daily until all chapters are on AO3.
Kudos: 2





	1. The NonRemarkedUpon Ones

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Magic Kaito does NOT belong to me. If it did, I would be sitting somewhere in a restaurant in Japan enjoying a soup bowl full of Japanese Ramen, not in the middle of Europe eating Spaghetti.
> 
> This fan fiction is based on the Anime version of both Detective Conan and Magic Kaito. It is in general Magic Kaito-canon-friendly, though it might have shattered the Detective Conan-canon a little bit, seeing as I'm going to drop a small bombshell on it. Now, have fun reading!

_I've been watching. I've been waiting. In the shadows all my time. I've been searching. I've been living. For tomorrows all my life._

_~In the Shadows – TheRasmus_

**In The Shadows**

People sure are simplistic.

They never do pay attention to us people in the shadows. For that is what we are. We're the faithful ones, the loyal sidekicks – the cameos within the cameos. We're there as moral support for the "real" heroes, the tragic and dramatic main characters who get all the glamour and fame. We're standing hopefully at the sidelines, just where the stage props are stored; ready to help out in one way or another, ready to hand the protagonist the weapon or band-aid he needs. And not once does a word of complaint pass our lips.

Personally, I never minded being one of those; not being the focus of the audience's hungry gazes. It never bothered me whenever they took the centre stage: It was in their nature. It was as though they were made for this life in the spotlights, whereas I was perfectly content to remain where I was, half-concealed by the shadows hidden by the long red curtain of their illuminated stage.

I knew that the only thing to draw the focus of their attention, once they came home after a long, long day, that would be me. And if it wasn't, I always knew how to get myself noticed by them. They were both _my_ boys, after all. I'd make sure they got fed, bathed and were ready to face the day whenever their day started – either in the morning or in the afternoon, depending on which one of my boys you'd ask – and to welcome them back home with a smile when it was over.

It would be me who would play with both of them, get their – sometimes rather reluctant – help in the garden again every week and hand them cookies when they did something nice or behaved well. I would be the willing audience for a new trick of theirs, for a play they did for the school theatre and anything else that they fancied they just _had_ to show me.

I would cook together with them from time to time and be the one – the _only_ one – who both of them would use as a dancing partner during those long evenings that we used to spend together just when the week started and the most demanding performances of my dear husband would be over. I would serve them their favorite dishes on special occasions and make sure they remembered their – and any other important (e.g. mine) – birthdays.

I would laugh together with them at some cookie or some other sweets that my stupid, idiotic husband managed to get past me and into the awaiting hands of our wayward son. I swear, sometimes he's the spitting image of his father! Especially when both would peer at me with those oh-so-identical sheepish crooked grins of theirs. I was the "soul of the house", so to speak. That was my job that I would always perform with great relish.

Until, one day, he appeared. And doubt began spreading in my mind like a drop of oil that's contaminating all the clear water around it.

_~Taken from a diary entry a few weeks before Kuroba Toichi's death_


	2. The Lonely Lady At The Grave

_In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit._

_~Albert Schweitzer_

**At the Graveyard**

He'd been accompanying Aoko and her father up to the gate of the graveyard and wanted to bid them goodbye when Aoko turned around to him and hugged him. His left arm that he'd lifted with the intention of waving his best friend and her father goodbye dropped limply to his side. Tears started flowing down his cheeks again. He was surprised. Kaito had thought he had no tears to spend any more, seeing as he'd been crying pretty much all day long that day. He leaned his chin onto her shoulder, reassuring himself of her comforting presence yet again, just as he'd been doing every few hours on that particular day, either by touch alone or with a word or two accompanying it.

"It's going to be ok. You're going to be ok, alright?" Aoko was crying as well, he noticed belatedly. Her tears were soaking through his black tuxedo and the chemise that he'd had to put on for the funeral. He didn't grasp why his mother had insisted on him wearing black for his father's funeral when more colorful robes would have been far more in the spirit of what his father probably would have liked them to wear.

He felt a hand being put onto his left shoulder and lifted his head again to look up into her father's grim face. "Should you or your mother need anything – anything at all – you know where to find us. We'll help with anything you might need our help for. Or we could just be there and you could just talk to us. Or, well… you can come over any time that you might need an audience for any of your tricks, as well, you know? Just let us know. Or you could come over for dinner, too."

Kaito hesitantly smiled. The older man had never been that good at expressing his feelings when it came to emotional scenes. But he'd gotten the message across and that at least earned him the small smile that now grazed the tear-stained face of the young boy.

Kaito knew that his family had been there for them, too, when Aoko's mother had died. He recognized the offer as one of repayment, as well as one stemming from the profound friendship that the two families shared. Kaito was deeply grateful for their support. He put his chin back onto the girl's shoulder and simply felt grateful.

For a few long moments they just stood there like that. Then Kaito noticed movement from the corner of his eyes and looked up to see Aoko's father stare at something somewhere behind him. He knew already what the older man was staring at: his mother. They'd left her behind – the Nakamoris were the last people to leave the funeral and they'd wanted to give the newly-widowed-mother a few moments to herself to properly say goodbye to her husband which was why Ginzo had (quite clumsily) hinted at Kaito to see them out.

Now she was standing at the grave of the deceased magician all alone. Kaito couldn't imagine what thoughts were going through her head. As good as the embrace felt for him, he felt the strong urge to get back to her and reassure himself that she wasn't going to go anywhere without him, as well.

Reluctantly he pried Aoko off of him. Having assured her that he was going to be alright and smiling a slightly bigger smile for her benefit only, he waited for her to wipe her eyes and face free of snot and tears before nodding to her and the older man and wishing them a good journey home.

Kaito then turned around and took a few long and deep breaths, wiped at his own face and headed back towards the lonely lady at the grave. His slow steps echoed ominously over the gravel pathway that led the way towards his father's family grave. He thought back towards a time when his father had last gone there together with him. Toichi Kuroba had been the greatest magician that there had ever been. Kaito wanted to be just like him!

At least he had wanted to be just like him before. What would he do now, that he knew that magic could kill people, and not just entertain them? What would become of his dreams now? It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had heard his father's encouraging words loudly ring in his ears whenever he'd succeeded at a trick.

Kaito half-believed this to be another of his dad's ruses and that his father would appear right in front of him to shout "Gotcha!" and to go on like nothing had happened. The only thing that made him discard this idea was that his father had never joked about things this serious before. Kaito was sure he was not going to start now.

He remembered the elder's face, his small beard, and the dark brown eyes that always twinkled with mischief. Oh, how he missed him already! Had it really been only a week ago that he'd pulled at the older man's shirt to get his attention? And that he'd talked to his father about the complicated lines of thoughts that girls had and that both had laughed that they could never fully unravel them? Had his parents really held each other in arms and kissed just three days ago? (Of course he'd turned away from that one… parents kissing was just "ewwwww!") And the next moment they'd gotten the message that the famous magician was dead. It had been – and still was – such a shock. Nothing could have ever prepared them for that.

He had reached his mother by the time his thoughts had turned back towards the subject lying six feet beneath them. Both stood side by side in front of the huge gravestone where the new engraving told them that "Kuroba Toichi, Magician." had died. It was such a simple description, Kaito thought. There should have been a whole book hanging from the gravestone, telling the people that passed by of all the deeds that his dad had done and of all the people he'd met and places he'd been. New tears gathered in his eyes again. Somehow he knew he'd be fed up with all the crying soon.

"Kaito?" His mother's voice sounded feebly over the rustling leaves in the background. The young boy however listened attentively.

"No more tricks."

What?

His mind grounded to a screeching halt. What did she mean? Did she mean what he thought she'd meant? She had to be kidding, surely? He himself hadn't even figured out if he should continue with the magic or not and now she came and told him to simply stuff it like that?

"How else will we remember dad?" the thought left his lips before he'd properly thought about it. But it was a valid argument in his eyes, so he didn't apologize for saying the word that made her flinch just like she did then.

"No more tricks. Don't ask. I don't want to argue with you now. Say-" a sob cut her off, however. Even though it was rude, with eyes as wide as saucers he openly stared at her as she sunk to the ground right in front of the grave. He'd never heard such a sound escape her lips before.

Yes, she'd cried before – and suspiciously her crying moments had increased in frequency leading up to his father's death, however Kaito wasn't in the mood to investigate that just then – but never had she sobbed and really cried as though her world had lost – something. Something big. Something essential.

As though it was crumbling to pieces in front of her eyes. Like he knew it was.

It was a heart-wrenching sound. Tears sliding down his cheeks in response to hers, he hugged her small form. He didn't want her leaving as well. And he'd do everything in his might to prevent that. Where would he be without her? All of a sudden he felt far more vulnerable than he had ever felt before. This was not how the story was supposed to go! His father should still be alive to see him survive all those endless school years that were still ahead of him, he should see him pass his driving license exam and go to his own shows once he was an accomplished magician, himself.

When had everything done a one-eighty like that? It was like the world had tipped and was now going backwards. The clocks were not working right any more. Suddenly heaven was down and earth was up.

Why did Toichi Kuroba, the greatest magician that this whole planet had ever seen, have to die?


	3. The Art Of Misdirection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Neither Detective Conan nor Magic Kaito belong to me.

_The magician and the politician have much in common: they both have to draw our attention away from what they are really doing._

_~Ben Okri_

**Sowing Worry and Reaping Care**

Kaito was on the chat again for like the tenth time after his night job had started up. As it had become habit, he was telling his mother all about Kid's most recent exploits, just like a fan would do – she was in a public internet café and it simply was safer to tell her about his adventures this way. She seemed to know about him being Kaitô Kid without him ever needing to tell her, so he just assumed his father had told her about his "other profession".

He'd of course noticed the radical change his mother had undergone in the past few weeks. From the woman flamboyantly recounting him things about her exciting life – she'd gone from Las Vegas to London to New York and to Barcelona, apparently –, she had done an almost 180-degree-turn to the quietly listening ear he'd been for her before. It was almost as though they had switched roles, though without telling the other.

It wasn't as though it was unwelcome; he'd been craving for a person that really knew him to tell what he had to say for forever now; however he had recently started to honestly miss her normal self, upon reflecting on their chats after a small comment that Aoko had uttered once he had told her of his talks with his mother. He wanted to cheer her up again, to know what was wrong, to do anything, truly, but she'd expertly avoided or deflected his questions. He'd already outright asked her, "Just why are you this silent all the time nowadays?"

She'd just responded by saying, "I am not the one being quiet. You have simply become more of an extrovert."

He hadn't believed her for one second. Kaito knew just what a good actress his mother could be if she wanted to, so he took everything she usually sprouted off with not just a grain, but a huge bag full of salt. The frown that had marred his face didn't waver for one moment as she had continued to refuse answering his questions and stay as unresponsive as possible throughout the conversation.

Only when Kaito thought he'd tried everything to get her to open up more about the – obvious – problems she was having did he stop pestering her. The frowns on his face didn't get any less pronounced as time went on, however he tried not to show them off too much in his mother's face, believing that pretending that everything was alright was the last method he hadn't explored yet. Mayhap his mother would come out with whatever was troubling her by herself.

He had no means of finding out by the ways he had tried out, apparently, so he had to grudgingly accept her quietness and changed attitude and move on. Only time would tell if it had been a change for the better or the worse for her, personally. For Kaito it meant getting used to a person that he knew was different normally, and that thought frankly didn't sit well with him, no matter how he tried to convince himself to accept it.

_~SowingWorryAndReapingCare~_

After two more months of constantly telling himself that this phase of hers would end soon, just like any of the other episodes her life had gone through already, Kaito finally had enough. They were on the chat again, with her apparently being in Dubai this time. He'd tried keeping the disconcertingly one-sided conversation alive by throwing in a deliberately more elaborate account of the latest Kid heist than it had truly been, when he snapped. Kaito couldn't help himself. He was her son, for god's sake! He was supposed to help her! But he simply couldn't do that when she just closed off like that and kept wiggling out of his attempts at doing so. Thus, and with all the lack of finesse and subtlety his actions usually held (yes, even those at school), he blew up on her, just having finished his account and sitting in awkward silence for more than five minutes in which his temper built up until it reached boiling point.

"WHAT are you playing at? What's your problem? Why did you close off all that – like that!" he had raised his voice, while his mother was stunned into (already existing) silence and stared at him like it was the first time she saw him.

"YOU are going to tell me what is wrong and what's been happening to you – and in explicit detail! YOU are going to come home and visit YOUR SON personally for the first time in three years! All –I– am going to do is WAIT HERE FOR YOU TO ARRIVE. And DO write me a text message on your mobile phone for when your plane lands, alright? Because I won't be online until such a time as you have visited me IN PERSON!" He was majorly fed up with this talking-over-the-internet, one could tell. And Kaito seemed to get his message across, seeing as his mother's face now featured a blank, slightly absent look, clearly carefully considering and thinking about everything he had said.

He went on to finish his rant with the calmly spoken words "See you soon." Then he cut the connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling ecstatic right now! Within this chapter there's official – and substantial – proof that the characters in it agree with my plot! Or did you think I planned on Kaito simply telling her to come back and explain what is troubling his mother? It's genius! It's just the catalyst the story needed – and it's come to happen at the one very right moment, too! I'm one happy authoress jumping around in circles of joy right now! *singing & whistling like crazy* *feeling giddy*


	4. Room To Fill, Wounds To Heal

_Everybody knows there is no fineness or accuracy of suppression; if you hold down one thing, you hold down the adjoining._

_Saul Bellow_

**About Keeping Your Nose Down (And Your Head Up)**

"- and I'm sure you're busy now, so see you! Bye-bye!" Kaito sighed wearily as the monitor grew dark again. Yet another conversation with his mother still had not been as promising as he might've thought it would be. Especially not when she took up most of the time rambling on and on about her journeys and experiences over there in Las Vegas. She had been over there for more than six months now! No, he definitely could not understand how she could simply waste his dad's money like that.

It was true that she was his mother, but at the moment it felt more like he was the more responsible party trying to reign in an older – yet more immature – sister who just recently found out about the entertainment value of wasting and spending money on exceedingly unnecessary and expensive things. His eyes grew dark as he remembered how she had started acting after his father's death.

_~AboutKeepingYourNoseDown~_

_A few weeks after the funeral of Kuroba Toichi_

Life was going on, the world had resumed its course through the universe and everything had returned to normal. One would think it had, at least. For one small boy of eight, life had changed. The death of his father had torn open a large, gaping wound into the two remaining family members' hearts and both were struggling to pick up the pieces that had been left behind.

His mother had undergone a radical change, too. Like she had said, no magical tricks were allowed in the house any more. Photos of his father's had been cleared off the shelves and any and all magical equipment had vanished in the weeks following the funeral. It was as though she wanted to erase his father's presence from the household. As though she couldn't bear to remember him. Kaito understood this – should anything remind her of him, she'd remember all the things that they couldn't do with him anymore, break down crying and miss her husband all the more for it – but that didn't mean he'd have to like it.

So he practiced his magic tricks in private, in secret, and performed them at the Nakamori's house. It quite literally had turned into a safe haven for him. There he was able to mourn his father the way he wanted to.

His father's name and any variation of the word "father" were taboo, too, in his house. At the Nakamori's he could say what he wanted. Well, almost. Aoko still was a girl, after all. Boys didn't tell members of the other gender too much about their weaknesses. It just wasn't done. But with her father – who'd taken off a few days and was home more often at the moment, something to do with Kid not making another appearance yet – he could talk. Really talk.

Have a men-talk.

And cry some more.

Apparently, he needn't have worried as much about his mother leaving him, as well. She clung to him, almost desperately, as soon as he was home. She asked him how his days at school were, how he had liked his bento-box, nattered on and on about her own day and how their other neighbor was growing old these days what with him talking about the weather all the time, and was a mother hen all around.

The growing boy didn't mind in the slightest. He missed his father, too, and could relate to her clinginess. Kaito was just glad that she was the one doing the clingy, and not him, so he wouldn't look too much like a weakling in front of anybody else – not that there was anyone else around, frankly.

At school he'd closed off and distanced himself from pretty much everyone except for Aoko. All the magic tricks and pranks he played at school helped in that endeavor. Only Aoko knew why he did them with such an enthusiasm. With an abundance of patience that he'd never thought she possessed she tolerated his behavior, whereas his school most certainly did not.

His school soon kept sending more and more letters home to inform his mother of the development of her son into a class clown, no matter how much he begged them to not do it. Thus Kaito had to become a bit creative in picking out the school's behavior reports from the other letters and made sure that his mother never actually got to see one of them. The signature that she would have had to sign with underneath them was quickly forged, of course.

However, even though the little family idyll was not disturbed by outside influences, his mother closed off more and more around him as the years went on. It was alarming, really, the speed with which their relationship deteriorated. And Kaito hadn't truly noticed this change for the worse until he was fourteen and his mother moved out. By then it was almost to the point of mother and son being total strangers to one another!

Unfortunately, it didn't appear to have helped much that he seemingly obeyed his mother's command of not doing any magic in the house, despite him honestly trying not to anger her by doing anything that would remind her of his dad. And that was the crux of the matter, it seemed: she had apparently become allergic to anything related to her late husband and reacted violently to any (even accidental) situations, actions or conversations reminding her of him. It wasn't long until it came to pass that the Nakamori – nice people, always visiting and making sure they would be alright – picked up on this.

Thus, when she left him to fend for himself all of a sudden at the tender age of fourteen, it hadn't been as big a surprise to him as it had been to his neighbors. His lack of surprise notwithstanding, it saddened him greatly, nevertheless. But Kaito was a fighter. He soon learned to keep himself above water with the allowance his mother sent him regularly from wherever she was at that moment. She did care about him still, obviously.

It had helped immensely that soon after his mother had left Aoko had made it an annoying, as well as welcome, habit to come over and cook for him as she did for her father often. He also appreciated them inviting him over a lot in the beginning of his time living alone. The two families had quite unmistakably grown close in the time that they supported each other like this. The late magician's son knew they would be there for him and his mother, no matter what.

_~AboutKeepingYourNoseDown~_

Sitting in front of his PC in the rather cool living room of his family's abode, Kaito still was unmentionably grateful for that. The house he called home had undeniably suffered a huge loss when his mother had deserted him like that. A huge decrease of sound had followed; after all, if there was no one there to entertain, why do things that would? Kaito had tried to keep atmosphere in the house lively with whatever he could, but he wasn't home all that often. He had turned on the radio as soon as he came home, turned on the TV, the computer. Anything to stave off the incredibly lonely feeling that almost suffocated him every time he returned after a long day at school.

He snorted almost derisively to himself. Yeah right. As if that had been able to keep out any bad feelings. Tiredly, he switched off the computer and went to do his homework. It had been an exhausting day full of things that he technically had already taught himself when he'd read on in the books before the beginning of school this term. This term's syllabus was so easy, he could cry! Mind, he knew he couldn't overachieve, lest he stand out from the crowd too much. Nevertheless Kaito hadn't counted on it being this difficult to be an "average student". But it aided him in the long run – his civilian persona mustn't be discovered before Snake was safely behind prison bars where he wouldn't be able to escape or before Pandora was found!

Even though he had been an excellent student with a tendency towards laziness before entering high school, when he'd – quite literally –stumbled upon his dad's "old job" as a moonlighting gentleman thief he'd reluctantly given up his position and acquired one that screamed "lazy good-for-nothing class clown" to everyone who was interested. Pulling off the deception had surprisingly been child's play.

It had been simple because he'd already – unknowingly, he might add – laid out the foundations for that by doing magic tricks that annoyed and entertained his classmates and teachers alike in equal measure all the time anyways. The only thing that he had to do was build up on that and maybe add in a few more pranks and jokes here and then. It was by far less difficult than trying to maintain a conversation with his mother in which she didn't digress or rattle on like a chatterbox!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To talk to one another by going on about useless, silly little things just to keep the conversation going is NOT a sign of being close to one another. It is the first stage of conversations: SMALL TALK. Usually, do deepen their relationships, people go beyond this and build up on it. In this case, however, it is used to keep a certain distance between the two participants – to keep each other at arm's length. The physical distance between them certainly doesn't help. (she had built up the emotional distance in the years following her husband's death)
> 
> Unfortunately, I've had that happen to me once, so I'm talking about personal experiences here. Please don't take it as an "unfounded plot-advancing device" only. ;_)


	5. Flying From Unpleasant Memories

_There's always going to be comparisons, and that's unavoidable. There are people out there who feel I hit my peak with Magician and have gone downhill since._

_~Raymond E. Feist_

**The Meeting**

Wearily he boarded the plane. It was exhausting, frankly, to even think about the fifteen hours and twenty-five minutes of flight that lay ahead of him. Once he reached his seat, he put his bag away (fortunately he only had a bag. He'd go mad if he had to carry around a suitcase as well every time he flew from one place to the other…) and sat down. He smiled a rare smile. It did help tremendously if you could simply distribute your things over two countries when you knew you had to travel back and forth all the time.

Half of his things were at his house in Japan, the other half rested with his mother. Hakuba was nothing if not efficient. Fortunately he could trust his housekeeper and his mother to take good care of both halves. The only thing that still managed to annoy him a bit was that he always seemed to forget at least one essential thing every time that he traveled around. When he first started actively getting involved with the police force in Japan, it was his jackets, cloaks and overcoats that he forgot. All of them had been left behind in London. He'd had to resort to wearing his old Sherlock Holmes cloak that time to make up for the missing jacket.

He grimaced. The first impression that he'd made with the local police in Ekoda was nothing short of ridiculous. Then again, the policemen that he dealt with the most were supposed to be used to people being dressed ridiculously, what with them being the Kaitô Kid task force. That however obviously hadn't kept them from snickering about him behind his back. And it didn't get any easier (or less) with time, either. First impressions are most important, that much he'd learned.

The high-school-detective let a sigh escape. The only reason he was interested in working together with the Japanese police force at all was that stupid thief. It was also the only reason why he had agreed to let his father introduce him to the official Kaitô Kid task force – regardless of his attire at the time. His father, Superintendent General Hakuba, was a busy man, thus he had also been pressed for time when Saguru'd come to Japan to chase after the illustrious thief for the first time. Not being one to pass up any chances, Saguru had agreed to the first date that his father had proposed to introduce him to Police Inspector Nakamori and his task force.

Saguru hadn't counted himself forgetting to bring something as big as a coat to the country into the equation. Later that day at the airport Saguru had of course then proceeded to promptly lose the one jacket of his that had actually managed to cross the borders. Resigned to his fate, he'd let himself be steered towards the car by his very understanding housekeeper with twinkling eyes and a mischievous expression on her face. There was no doubt in Saguru's mind that this particular adventure of his featured frequently as a source of entertainment at the little get-togethers that she oftentimes organized together with other housewives from the neighborhood.

Putting the proffered sleeping mask into the bag adjacent to the seat in front of him, he pulled the blanket – also a service of the airline – over his body and tried to sleep.

_~TheMeeting~_

About five hours into the flight he finally fell into a rather fitful sleep. Apparently, his mind was far ahead of him in terms of what might happen during his stay in Japan this time around. Hakuba dreamt about how he (yet again) failed to capture the illusive "moonlight magician" and which colors his classmate Kaito would see fit to cover him with at school. It all merged into a spectacular firework of colors which mocked him until the moment that he felt something brush lightly over his knees which made him return to wakefulness.

It was his neighbor – the one from his left hand side – who just wanted to get out to go to the toilet. Seeing as his seat was the aisle seat and hers the middle seat of the window row, she naturally had to get out by either waking him up or moving as quietly as possible around him: the second was not an easy feat to achieve without waking him up in the process. Judging by how far she had come she had apparently been going at it for quite some time already and had almost been successful in her endeavor.

He blinked bemusedly. Hakuba supposed he had to hand it to her. Usually people would not get as far as to have both legs on the side that they wanted to get to and wake him by brushing their arm against his knees because they'd had to turn back for their bag. Usually people would not come that far, at all. The junior detective dejectedly shook his head. It was NOT the time for unfounded accusations based on what he normally experienced with a certain renegade moonlighting jewel thief.

Even though the woman looked distinctly similar to his classmate and number one suspect for the Kaitô's civilian identity. Especially the eyes… with a blink Saguru realized that he'd been staring at her quite rudely. The woman – who had first had a caught-with-the-fingers-in-the-cookie-jar expression on her face – had in the meantime assumed a more neutral look which turned a little reprimanding the longer the silence lasted (at least in his opinion it did). After a few more uncomfortable moments the silence was finally broken by her. She closed her eyes and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry for having woken you up. It certainly didn't intend to!"

His eyes widened a fraction. "No, no! I wasn't… I was waking up anyways, just now."

"Ah, that's good then. In any case, I'm sorry for having disrupted your sleep this abruptly, then." A muscle twitched under his left eye. Was she toying with him? Or was that his imagination playing tricks on him?

She nodded once, sharply, turned around and quietly walked off towards the toilets. Puzzled, he kept looking after her for a few more minutes, before he managed to break out his short confusion. Next he turned his attention towards the integrated board monitor on the seat in front of him to see how far they'd come in the time that he'd slept.

_~TheMeeting~_

It wasn't until another hour had passed after he was awakened that the woman talked to him again.

"Did you have a nice rest?" Bemused, he blinked. Then the question registered properly.

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"Again, I'm sorry for having woken you up. I didn't mean to." Now he was almost sure that she was playing with him: her eyes were twinkling mischievously when she said it. Did she mean to wake him up? Did she like reminding him that he didn't get one ounce of sleep since then? Whatever she was getting at, he didn't know. He shrugged it off as unimportant. At four am in the morning his brain was not up to mind reading or conversational games.

"It's alright." He decided to go for what he deemed a "safer" topic. "We are lucky that the plane isn't delayed."

She nodded in response. "Yes, I did hear about some nasty incidences on planes, so I'm glad none of those happened to us so far." What, did she _want_ to experience such an "incident" or why else was there a bit of longing in her voice? Saguru subtly inched a bit away from her. Detective or no, he'd like to arrive at the airport in Narita in one piece, thank you very much.

Then she brightened up considerably and started babbling. "But it's nice, meeting new people on the plane! I already thought you might just be one of those stuffed-up guys who are too snobbish to talk to other people when they sit right beside them! Thankfully you don't seem to be that arrogant at all! So, how about yourself? Are you headed for your family home? Is it in Tokyo? How long will you stay in Japan? Have you got a lot of plans? Ooooh, I know! You're going to visit your girlfriend, aren't you? My, what a charming young man you are! Yes, and with that blonde hair…"

Baffled by the quick change of attitudes all he could do was stare her silently for a few moments (again!) before his brain caught up to her questions and everything around it. She was reaching for his hair, taking one strand on his left into her hand and coming waaaay too close for his comfort. By then he was sure more than half of what she said could be considered as insulting, however he was far too preoccupied with her hand close to his head and wiggling further away from her touch to do anything against whatever things she threw at him.

"Very nice!" She commented cheerfully when he finally managed to detract her hand from his hair.

"Yes, actually I'm going to my father's place. And I would be glad if you could keep your hand to yourself, thank you. As for a girlfriend waiting for me at home: I'm sorry to disappoint, but I do not have a girlfriend."

"My, and as such a strapping young man, too!" He just knew that if he let her have her will, she'd ramble on and on and on, so he cut her off before she could say anything else.

"Thank you very much for the compliment, Madam. Yes, I'm headed for the north-western outskirts of Tokyo, actually. Are you going there as well?" _Please say no, please say no!_ he prayed in his mind, _For my peace of mind's sake, please!_

"Oh, what a coincidence! My family's house is located around there, too! It's in Ekoda, what about yours?" In his mind, the Hakuba descendant cursed whatever deity that was listening to his prayers.

"Ah, mine is close to Ekoda. My school is in that district."

The older lady answered in an outraged manner, "School? You go to school, still?" It was nothing new to him. Because of his appearance, most people thought him much older than he actually was. So it didn't bother him, when she loudly exclaimed "You look much older than a school boy! That cannot possibly be true. Are you pulling my leg?" Naturally he thought the same of her. That outrage was just a tad too exaggerated, so that he thought it had to be fake. But, frustratingly enough, Saguru couldn't truly tell with that woman whether her emotions really were sincere or if she was acting. She was like an extraordinarily good actress, caching whatever her true feelings were and showing exaggerations whenever she pleased, to throw off anyone listening.

He shook his head slowly, also to get rid of any negative thoughts that immediately associated the woman with his avowed enemy. Just because he was sitting beside her and all thoughts of his at the moment riveted in that direction didn't mean that she was an accomplice of his for real.

"No, I just turned 17 the other month. I still have at least one year of school ahead of me. And I'm going to Tokyo to finish my education, as well. I only came to Great Britain for a short break and to see my mother." Should she think what she wanted to of that statement. He didn't care. It was way too early to be awake and he had a long day ahead of himself. In three hours and fifteen minutes, thirty seconds they would land, anyways. He was already counting the seconds. What did that say for the quality of the conversation with his neighbor? Or for his inclination to follow up on it?

Apparently she sensed that he didn't want to talk any more, for she got out one of the magazines that were in the bag of the seat in front of her and continued reading where she had apparently left off somewhere in the middle of it. As for Hakuba, the teenager leaned back in his seat and attempted to sleep again.

_~TheMeeting~_

It had ended up in a slight doze for a bit longer than an hour, he simply couldn't properly sleep any more since that wake-up call. As a consequence he'd taken to reading one of the books that he'd put into his bag. When he realized he'd been staring at one and the same line for more than one minute, he tried the newspapers in front of him. Fortunately they had more interesting texts. One feature drew his attention and he started contemplating tricks and traps with which to finally catch and detain – read: arrest – his sworn enemy once and for all.

He'd been staring at the article about the latest Kaitô Kid heist for ten whole minutes, lost in his thoughts, when she snorted derisively. His attention drawn to the sound, he turned to her. The older woman's eyes were fixed on the newspaper page, even while she spoke.

"It's always him nowadays, isn't it? The one who gets all the attention of the papers and has the police scurrying after him, desperate to even just grab one inch of his ghostly white uniform." For one moment he thought he'd heard "ghastly" instead of "ghostly", but he shook it off as a misunderstanding on his part. Growing thoughtful, he looked at the page in front of him again. Happy about the common ground for discussion (and that her voice had taken on the quality of a slow, dark and low bass instead of a shrill driller bombarding him with questions and an overabundance of ideas), he replied in measured words.

"Maybe he craves that attention. Maybe all that he needs is seeing his name in the newspapers. With magicians you never know, after all."

Another derisive, though more quiet snort followed that statement. "Yes, I should know. Having been the wife of one makes you kind of aware of just what attention-seeking idiots they are. And that thief… always being drawn in by jewels and anything that sparkles… it's as though there's a rule, stating that magicians in general have to be like that: attracted to glitter, be it jewels or women…"

"I certainly have to agree to that. He is rumored to be quite the ladies' man and he steals jewels more often than he does anything else. I'm sorry about your husband, though." Naturally he'd picked up on the past tense she'd used in telling him that tidbit of information. But that definitely narrowed down the list of people she could have been married to. Almost imperceptibly he shook his head to get rid of those persistently reappearing thoughts already! He wasn't in Japan yet, and already began cataloguing the information into "relevant for next Kaitô Kid chase" or not.

She was in the meantime speaking on, "Like you said, you never know. But that stupid thief, always stealing things, damaging property and running off cackling madly! That can't be healthy, too, for those chasing after him! What a careless person he must be." There she goes, judging people again. He raised his left eyebrow warily. It must have become a habit. Maybe she didn't even notice that she was pigeonholing people like that? Pigeons, doves…And there he went again: his thoughts always turned into the direction of that pesky moonlighting idiot lately. In order to stave off any more ideas of that kind, he responded to her last declarations.

"Oh, but that is not the case at all! He does obviously care about those chasing him – I've heard of at least one moment where he's helped one of the policemen chasing him, one of the task force told me that story some time ago. The thief had apparently even doubled back to help the policeman get back onto the roof where he'd fallen off-"

"Because he'd chased the man! Obviously that _magician_ had led the man to the roof in the first place, maybe even kicked him off or made him fall down! What a hazardous job!" Saguru could practically hear distaste for the label "magician" that she'd given the thief. Apparently, the man didn't deserve it. Or whatever experiences she associated with the word were bad. Her voice had grown a tad louder, as well, but just enough as not to wake the other passengers in the vicinity.

"They know what they've signed up for. They are the Kaitô Kid task force, so I don't think they ran into it blindly!" The high school detective didn't know why he momentarily felt the need to defend the task force – or that inane larcenist, for that matter – but he just knew that if he let her go on like this he'd have no idea just where the lines lay: was Kid really that bad? He made a grand show out of his stealing every single time, yes. But he returned the gems after the heist and even made sure that nobody got hurt. The worst that the teenage detective had ever seen him do was destroy windows and doors.

That notwithstanding, if he went down that line of thought, Saguru knew he'd have to redefine everything: his every action, his very being. Avoiding that train of thought, he went back to listening to the woman's rant getting more and more audible from a farther range. Some of the people around them – most had been sleeping peacefully prior to their discussion – were giving the pair nasty looks already. Well, their bad. He had been woken up by her, too, thus was not feeling too sympathetic for them after he'd only gotten about six hours of sleep on a fifteen-hour-flight himself.

"The Kaitô Kid task force, what a shame! That he even got a task force in and of itself is an affront, don't you think? What impudence! Thus he got what he wanted: attention and a whole group of policemen and fans chasing after him, too!" Her diatribe grew more and more heated quickly. In order to stave off an all-out confrontation, he turned the page, also to calm himself down. The woman, finally looking around her and noticing all the looks she had garnered, was dismayed about having raised her voice and – properly rebuked by these very looks – sat back and tried to appear as small as she could. She looked as though she wanted nothing more than to hide in the next mouse hole. And yet, when she spoke next – her final words during that flight, he sensed – her voice was steady and strong.

"Around magicians, you have to be on guard all the time. It's dangerous. They get drawn in so easily by other things that you almost don't get enough of their attention. … But I said too much already. I must be boring you with all the old-women-rambling that you have had to endure. I'm going to sleep now. Good night." With that she turned to the window, pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes.

Befuddled, all Saguru could do for the next few minutes was stare at the woman. She changed attitudes faster than he could blink! Thinking about her words, he realized that her distaste for magicians might just stem from her former relationship with one of them. In the last hours of the flight he could only speculate about what she'd experienced or what the magician had done to her to give her this magician-repellent attitude.

Thoughts about his classmate and the white-wearing silly moonlighter had all but disappeared from his mind as he further contemplated – in silence, that much he'd learned after all the insults, the tirade and talking to her in general – the mystery that was represented by the woman sitting next to him and pondered for the first time the unsettling possibility of more threatening –more ruthless and more sinister – enemies of Kaitô Kid, phantom thief and magician extraordinaire, that the fool was bound to have attracted in his time as cat burglar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I do know that English is NOT Japanese and that some words that sound almost alike are Not so in Japanese. However, the language I am writing in is – obviously – English, so what language jokes or other things I insert are going to be in English. Thank you for your understanding, the authoress.
> 
> P.s.: I am SORRY! – for the late update. Real Life has a way of messing up my schedule sometimes – nanowrimo hasn't helped, though it was a fun side activity to everything that has been going on until now! I won it, btw, though the ff isn't even CLOSE to being finished yet… plunnies are attacking me left, right and center, guys!


	6. A Charade To Keep Up, Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Magic Kaito and Detective Conan don't belong to me. Thanks for letting me play around with them, though, Aoyama-sama!

_One of my rules is never explain. A writer is a lot like a magician, if you explain how the trick works, then a lot of the magic turns mundane._

_~Laurell K. Hamilton_

**The Kidnapping**

It was a sunny autumn day; Kaito had just come out of school and walked Aoko home, when he saw his mother in front of the Kuroba house, waiting for him. She'd taken his "suggestion" seriously, apparently, and come to visit him in person. He let a relieved smile appear on his face. Now, everything would be alright. Kaito'd be able to help his mother with whatever problems she had managed to drudge up in the past three years on her journey across the world and they'd go back to what they had before she had moved out. Not in his wildest dreams could he have guessed what was coming to him.

_~TheKidnapping~_

Next thing he knew, he'd been officially kidnapped – yes, _**kidnapped**_ , of all things possible! – by his very own mother. The thought was so absurd, so ridiculously weird to him, that he first hadn't known what to make of it.

Upon arriving in front of his mother, she'd hugged him. When she let go, he could just make out a dangerous glint in her eyes, telling him (and anybody else, for that matter) that she wasn't in a playful mood at all. She'd herded him into the house, made him pack a bag full of the things he'd really need – she hadn't allowed anything else to enter the bag – in record time and was all around acting like it was an emergency that she had even come home. She hadn't even let him pack his phone or any electronic devices at all!

Following that, they'd exited the house again, locked it and made their way into the direction of a car that was waiting for them a few streets away. He hadn't even known she could drive, for heaven's sake! If that hadn't been suspicious already, her driving behavior most certainly had been.

She had been driving erratically around the streets of Tokyo before settling on going north-west – because they'd taken smaller alleyways and one-way-streets more often than not and mostly avoided the main streets, he hadn't been able to keep up with where exactly they were going, only the general direction. Not for the first time he'd wondered just what was going on to take such measures. Was somebody following them?

When he'd made sure nobody was doing so by inconspicuously glancing backwards every now and then, he hadn't known what to do other than trust her to know what she was doing, wait and see what would happen.

And that had turned out so well now, hadn't it? He still wasn't any more informed than he'd been at the beginning of their journey. At least now they had a roof over their heads and were actually something not-moving. She'd brought them to a house so far outside any city's reach that he was amazed it was as well-kept as it was. It wasn't the house itself that made his skin crawl at all, no; it was his mother and her actions that a) confused the hell out of him and b) scared him to bits.

The house itself was a nice, cozy little wooden house in the middle of nowhere on a small mountain or something, judging from the sloped ground that they'd been steadily going up for more than two hours. Its furniture seemed fairly new and yet it had a quite homely feeling to it that Kaito thought nobody could replicate if they tried. It was as though it had its own character that expressed itself by way of showing people just what kind of interior there was once they entered it.

From outside it had looked like an ordinary wooden hut that was more commonly used for staff outings or class reunions. It had two floors and a wooden exterior as well as interior. It looked like it could burn down immediately upon having someone throw a cigarette down. That thought wasn't reassuring, really. Kaito laughed nervously.

Hopefully his mother didn't plan to commit suicide and take him with her. It would be way too easy to accomplish once night came. Or was it his mother, really? He wasn't as sure about that any more, either. She kept throwing him off with her paranoid actions: first she'd taken that complicated route to get to the house, and then she'd made haste getting everything into the house, all the way pushing him in front of her – as though it was a safe haven, really – and shut all the blinds on the ground floor of the house. It was as though she thought they'd be attacked by someone every second, really. But by whom? Who did he know that would attack the Kurobas? The answer came to him in a moment.

Snake.

Did she know about him? It stood to reason that she knew about the organization that's been hounding him simply because she seemed to know about him being Kaitô Kid, too. But until he was sure, he would tread carefully and test the waters. It could just be because of something else altogether that she'd act as though someone was out for their lives and could reach them any time, really… nope. Snake truly seemed the best candidate for such a "mission". But what was the catalyst that would make her act on this idea all of a sudden? Why did she choose now to whisk him away like this? He couldn't fathom just what was behind all this.

If she had been aware of him being Kid from the very beginning – as he assumed she had been – then it would have only been a matter of time until the threat that Snake posed would have surfaced. He'd quite literally tried to draw them out, too. Double trouble. His mother should have acted on her beliefs at the very start of his thieving career as a cat burglar, then it would have made sense, at least. But to what extend would it help her to kidnap him now?

It was frustrating, frankly, how all his searching for answers went back to "wait and see what would happen". He'd just have to lean back and let her do whatever. But in no way was he going to sleep inside the little house that night. Kaito still wasn't sure if it was his mother that had abducted him or not. It could just be a disguise-expert out for his blood or some ransom.

Had it been the former, he supposed the other had had ample time already to kill him. If the mother-lookalike wanted to do so during the night (out of some misguided sympathy or whatever other reason why people killed someone when the other wasn't awake), Kaito would most decidedly _**not**_ be the unassuming, trusting victim.

_~TheKidnapping~_

Five days later Kaito was already getting to the point of being distinctly fed up with the general situation. His mother (for he'd made sure of that by _accidentally_ pulling at her face in a deliberately orchestrated moment of falling-down-on-her when he'd descended the stairs and she was just oh-so-conveniently standing at the bottom) was sitting in the living room, nursing a cup of hot fruit tea sprinkled with a bit milk, just how she used to like it before.

Kaito had just gone downstairs to join her and press her for answers (something he'd avoided because he'd figured she'd address what was bothering her sooner or later – sooner being the more favorable option, in his opinion). He'd opened his mouth to ask her a question when the expression on her face stopped him cold in his actions and he came to a stop in the middle of doorway leading to the living room.

It was an expression filled with abject terror and misery. Forlornly, she was looking into nothing, it seemed. It was painful to watch, really. Just what the hell had happened? Held loosely in her hands was a letter, the envelope lying carelessly discarded on the living room table in front of her.

Her son moved quietly to stand in front of her slightly shaking form and made some inquiring noises in the back of his throat. She slowly – with an agonizing slowness – raised her head to look at him. When their gazes finally connected, she let out a strangled not-quite-sob and her eyes teared up.


	7. 1 Turned Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. Enjoy the reading!

_The world has grown suspicious of anything that looks like a happily married life._

_~Oscar Wilde_

**Remember A Time When Everything Was Perfect?**

"I'm sure you're busy now, baibai!" and with a happy face she closed the chat window. Inside, though, it felt pathetic, really, how she was running away. She shook her head decidedly. She wasn't running away! She was giving her dead husband his just earnings. That was all there was to it. Rubbing her left eye wearily, she switched off the computer and stood up. She had an appointment to keep. Just why did it feel suspiciously as though she was the one doing the deceiving?

_Former Happiness_

Earlier, everything had been easier. Much, much easier. Chikage could vividly recall the time when everything had simply been –perfect-. They had been a fitting couple, happy and content. Both of them hadn't had that much money yet – her husband had only been on the verge of establishing himself as a magician still – though it had been enough. Chikage herself had been working fulltime as a shop assistant at a bookstore in order to get a little more money into their meager household fund. They had been alright, and that was all that mattered. Those were good times.

And then success had hit. They had gotten to travel around the world – their friends had fortunately never truly been out of reach due to the growing interest in the upcoming fashion to be "connected via the internet". First they had stayed in contact with emails, then via chats. It had felt like they never were far away, at all.

When Kaito had come along – rather late, she had to admit; her friends had had kids much earlier than herself – the world had filled up even more and finally had seemed complete. They had had the fun of their lives, trying to keep up with the little growing boy. He was like a whirlwind, keeping everything in motion all the time, while they had been scrambling to pick up the pieces after him. Her husband certainly had been something, she had to admit. Toichi had been really good with young boys, and she had been glad for it. It had been a peaceful episode in their lives.

However, there was one person which appeared to play a bigger and bigger role in their lives as time went on. First, it was innocent comments like, "Have you seen? Kaitô Kid has struck again!" that her husband started uttering one day (before they had their son) and which never really seemed to abate. She let it slide. Her husband was head over heels in love with her, and she could see it in the way he moved around her. Nevertheless, the descriptions only became more and more vivid, with elaborate details added. She played it off as a fascination of the moment. Her husband was known for having his "phases" at times. Toichi would just be utterly immersed in whatever had managed to grab his attention – and a few months, a year tops, later, it'd lay discarded in a corner somewhere.

Chikage had made herself believe that, then. But mentions of that person kept cropping up. She became suspicious when she actually started to compare her husband's recounts of the Kaitô Kid's exploits with the news accounts. They didn't fit. Her husband was either veeery good friends with a policeman (she didn't think so, at the time), or he had some inside informant.

It hadn't been until Kaito was six, after all, that they'd met the Nakamori. But her boy had still been an infant when the first more detailed stories appeared at the dinner table. It had made for great evening entertainment; that was for sure. It hadn't given her any reassurance, though. When first doubts began spreading in her mind, she still tried laughing them off as ridiculous, but a small thought lingered. What if it was true?

She had fought with herself a lot, at that time. It wasn't easy. Her husband got more and more worried as time went on – he could just –sense– that something was bothering her the way he always did. But she kept her mouth shut, afraid that the words she was close to saying would destroy the peace and the family they had built up together. At least her son didn't seem to notice her growing concern. Her mind was in turmoil. It couldn't be true, right?

But when she actually paid attention, she noticed things. She noticed suspicious things that kept happening. For example, her husband always was absent or "somewhere" whenever Kaitô Kid would appear. Kaitô Kid always would be prone to appear in whatever city they were just then residing in (or close to it,) too. And then there were those stories. They were another type of proof entirely. And they were both magicians. What if…?

Every time her mind came to the daunting conclusion, she'd let her thoughts wander back. He wouldn't do that to her! Toichi was in love with her! Never in a million years he wouldn't…!

Then again, she supposed there was a certain attraction to it, wasn't there? A phantom thief… never in her wildest dreams would she have thought of this! No. He couldn't. Could he?

Her world tipped sideways.

What if…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Siren: THANK YOU for the review! I was trying for short chapters with this ff, actually - it was sort of a personal experiment of mine, to see whether I could say what I wanted to say in brief chapters. But I might do a bit more for the chapters (aka flesh them out a bit more) AFTER I've finished posting all of them – or I might not. Depends entirely on my mood, really.
> 
> Anyway, on to what I wanted to say from the beginning: the next update will come on the 10.12.!


	8. 2 What You Are Insinuating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither Detective Conan nor Magic Kaito. Thank you for reading!

_I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather… not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car._

_~Will Shriner_

**The Lady in Black**

Motionless, she was standing at the grave long after the last guests had left. She couldn't believe he was well and truly gone, now. No way! He'll come up right behind her to tell her it's just one of his stupid jokes, for sure.

Just then Kaito returned. He'd been seeing off his friend, their neighbor's daughter, and her husband at the gate to the graveyard. Rain began trickling down on their heads. It wasn't enough to start using an umbrella, but it was annoying. Her son slowly walked to stand beside her. Solemnly, they regarded the cold surface of the gravestone. No way was he gone for good. No way.

The newly-widowed mother of one feels numb, didn't really know what she was supposed to feel. Honestly, though? She didn't care. The other people should think what they want. Had it been up to her, they would have respected her husband's wish of a colorful funeral, as well as a colorful wedding. But unfortunately his family had organized it, so they had been the ones to call the shots. Her husband had gotten one of those two, at least. She was in denial, she just knew it. What else was left for her to do? She had to take care of a growing boy now, all alone.

The relatives on his side at least had the grace to come to the funeral, even though she just knew she couldn't expect them to support her or her son. Hers hadn't even attended the ceremony. So they thought that little of her once-husband. Now he was her – what? Ex-husband? Dead husband? Dead spouse? None of those descriptions fit, she thought. And she would be loath to be caught in public using one of them to refer to him. At home she'd just use "Toichi". That was easier, she thought. Then again, she couldn't even bring herself to speak this out loud any more without breaking down than she could think of any memories.

When she felt the nine-year-old give her his full attention upon her speaking his name, she felt that yes, she could do this. She wouldn't make it any harder on herself than she had to – at least at the beginning! Chikage was still trying to get used to this… situation. But one never got used to it, she thought with derision. Those people telling her to "get over it soon" should just go to hell.

So she put all her courage into the words she spoke next. "No more tricks." It hurt. Tears were sliding down her cheeks already – they'd been doing so all day sans pause – and she didn't need to glance sideways down to know her son's reaction. Shock.

It hurt more, however, when he asked her a small, innocent question. "How will we remember dad?" Involuntarily, she flinched. Would he understand if she explained it to him? Where should she even start? There were so many things that were flying through her head at that very moment; it was difficult to make sense of even just one of them. She started explaining,

"No more tricks. Don't ask. I don't want to argue with you now. Say-"doesn't it hurt to think of him and know you'll never be able to see him again? Her voice broke off after the brief second it took for her to finish the thought. Doesn't it hurt to see magic and immediately think of the trick he might show you next just to backtrack and remind yourself that he was gone? There would be no more tricks Toichi Kuroba would show the world any more. And she despaired when this fact ran through her mind.

When she got aware of her surroundings again, she found she had broken down crying right in front of the grave, with her son hanging on to her tightly. It felt as though he might've wanted to comfort her and hugged her, however as though the hug had turned into something else entirely in the span of a few more moments. It felt as though she was his lifeline. And it felt good.

_~TheLadyInBlack~_

Switching to Nakamori Ginzo's POV

Nakamori Ginzo was reassured when he took in the little scene from where he'd been looking through a hole in the outer wall surrounding the graveyard. Everything would turn out alright for those two. It was time that he went home to his daughter, as well.

_~TheLadyInBlack~_

In the weeks that followed, the father-of-one grew more and more concerned, however. He hadn't heard what she had told her son, thus he only found out once Kaito deigned to come over for a play-session with his daughter. And then all hell had broken loose. The young boy – once Ginzo had sent out his daughter to the grocery shop just around the corner to get some milk – had raged a good half an hour about this order that his mother had given him. And then about his mother, as well. For good measure, he threw in a rage about his father's death, too.

It was clear to him that the boy would carry his father's death in his heart for forever. But he tried to help his friends when and where he could. If it meant letting Kaito perform his magic tricks in his house, then so be it. It might just relieve the woman of some of the burden that she seemed to carry around every time he saw her.

It was a blessed curse, he supposed, that the Kaitô Kid hadn't deigned to show up to his latest heist – even though they apparently had figured out the heist notice alright. He still had his doubts about that, though. If the thief didn't show, then obviously _they_ must have deciphered something wrong. It made him edgy. And paranoid. Fortunately, not everything he thought and felt was immediately seen by others, so keeping it from the children was relatively easy.

_~TheLadyInBlack~_

Going back to Kuroba Chikage's POV

And indeed, it was a heavy burden that Chikage had placed upon her own shoulders. Her thoughts kept reverting back to Kid and the conclusions she'd drawn from her observations. She was no investigator, she knew, so she didn't know how much value she could put into what she had come up with. But to her, it seemed valid enough. And it scared her. How could she even think of this?

It was good, she thought, that she didn't tell her son about all this. It would just trouble him more and she doesn't want to burden him with her doubts and her blazing hatred towards the conclusion she'd drawn. There was no other way it would make sense, was there? She didn't see what else could be the case. So she kept her son ignorant of what was going on in her mind.

Hopefully, he'd be spared of the same fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys! Real Life has gotten its hands on me – and around me, for that matter – and next week is gonna be christened the "Week Of Hell". The week after that, however, is as free as can be. Where's the sense in that? Oh well…
> 
> Expect an update (or two) in the upcoming week, plz! (I'm trying to find out what works better for me: explicit dates or "weekly" updates. Please bear with me!)


	9. 3 A Major Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. Thanks for the support!

_All say, "How hard it is that we have to die" – a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live._

_~Mark Twain_

**A Moment When Life Just Stops**

It was agonizingly slow, how time seemed to drag on afterwards. Life had resumed, and the newly-reduced family had things to pack and memories to bury. It was torture, really. One huge hole had all of a sudden cropped up in their midst, without preparing them for it. It was excruciating, really. Even though both of the remaining members mourned their lost one in their own way, they still comforted and helped each other as best as they could. However, their family seemed to be slowly drifting apart ever since the man of the house left.

Moreover, on top of this loss she felt, Chikage also had one daunting possibility hanging above her like a neon sign, loudly stating the reason for her troubles to anybody interested. Naturally, she didn't let it affect her actions and facial expressions much around her son; however one could see she was bothered greatly by something other than the death of her husband if one looked carefully. After all, Chikage had been an actress once. As such, she had – fortunately in this case – retained at least _some_ of her abilities that she'd honed at that acting school.

And indeed, she felt greatly burdened. Her anger towards the conclusion she'd drawn out of her observations hadn't abated, at all. Instead it had grown with every time she saw her son perform magic tricks, even as accidental as the performance in the house was, most of the time. Then, there were the letters from the school to consider, as well. She had turned a blind eye on those, too, but that didn't keep her from noticing. He'd taken her seriously when she'd ordered him to stop at least, it seemed. That was one thing she could find solace in.

It didn't discourage that anger, however. Her attention focused on her little boy's appearance, instead. He did remind her more and more of her late husband the older he got. He was a miniature version of her Toichi. Like watching the love of her life grow up again. That was the one fault that she just couldn't forgive him. Every time she would look at her boy, she would be reminded of what she'd lost. And then, she'd hate herself for even thinking of hating her son for his looks, of all things!

She could not decide whether to tell him of what was plaguing her mind, either. He'd have to give up the image he still had of his father, and would, perhaps, lose some of his innocence in the process – was that worth it? Chikage didn't know what to do. On the one hand, she was full of guilt for not telling her son – who was most certainly the one that was most affected by that fateful decision of her husband's. On the other hand, he was still so young – ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen: his age always seemed just too young for learning the truth, no matter how much time had passed. No age of his appeared to be the right one to tell him of this life-changing event that had put such a huge shadow over both their lives, be it known or unknown to the people involved.

Unlike her son, she did not have a convenient outlet for her emotions, though. Chikage had kept in faithful contact with her husband's former pupils (even though one of those two had died in the years in-between), but they'd had their own lives and children and husbands to consider. Kudo Yukiko, the other pupil of Toichi's, was quick to lend her and her troubles an ear when she needed one. She'd grown to become a close friend of Chikage's and the widow was grateful for that.

A few heaps of letters marked one corner of the master bedroom in the Kuroba household as their own. Whenever Chikage was in a rather depressive mood, she'd read them again, or just hold them, sure in the assumption that she had a friend out there, somewhere, who would help and support her.

Those depressive moods were becoming an uncomfortably frequent occurrence in the weeks before the fifth anniversary of the magician's death day. The week right before the event, Chikage still wasn't sure what she was going to do on that day. In the end, she simply went there with her teenaged-son and deposited some flowers on the grave.

They hadn't grown close, as one might have thought they would. Somewhere in-between the funeral and the anniversary they had grown far more distant than Chikage had ever wanted them to be. Was that normal with teenagers? Somehow, she didn't think so. She let him go back home on his own – probably stopping at their neighbor's house along the way– when they'd both stood there in front of that grave together silently for about an hour and not moved any.

Kuroba Chikage frankly didn't know what to do. "This day should have been special, you know?" she started saying, "It should have heralded a meteor coming to the earth or the takeover of the planet by aliens. That's the kind of story you would have liked, ne?" Tears started running down her cheeks unchecked.

"You'd have worn something in bright neon colors – maybe green, or, no, yellow would have been better in your opinion. And then you'd have made doves appear on my hands. You'd have given me some food for them and let me feed them. They're still there, by the way, at the house. Kaito is taking good care of them after I've showed him how. He's grown up to be just like you, you'd be delighted." She wiped some of the tears away with her left arm.

"He reminds me of you, you know? He's got the same unbreakable spirit, the same temper. It's like watching you again… Did you know that I have figured it out, your great secret? What would you have said had I thrown it at your head? You'd have probably reassured me that yes, you love me. And no, you are not suicidal." Her breath hitched.

"You're just thinking what's good for us, yes." She closed her eyes and paused.

For one eternal moment, there was nothing else there in that graveyard, other than her and the wind blowing slightly against her hair, making it move this and that way.

Choking against her throat all of a sudden closing up on her, one more word escaped her.

"Why?"

That was all she could ask him, frankly. It was one question full of everything and nothing. Why did he start this? Why did he torment her like this – even after his death? Why couldn't he and that stupid Kaitô Kid go to hell for all they had done to her? Wasn't it enough to make her think of this possibility? Did they _have_ to prove it to her by disappearing at the same time?

Just then, everything she'd lost came to her. Everything she'd never see again. Her husband, her spouse, her love. Her friend, confidant and co-conspirator in the oh-so-elusive Art of Parenting. She'd never see his face again, his mustache, his eyes twinkling with mischief, his black hair, doomed to a perpetual life of disarray. At least when he'd cut them short were they manageable. She thought back to their son, who had inherited that same, rebellious hair, the knack for mischief and the talent for magic tricks from him. At that moment she knew. She couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't stand being reminded about everything she wouldn't ever see again, everything she lost, by the very person they'd created together. Then she knew she was going to have to move out. Until such a time came as she wasn't hurt any more by the mere sight of her son.

His inspiration, his love, his life – he'd left all of those things and more here. With their son and her. Not six feet under. Just what had driven him to do such a thing? Why didn't he check his equipment better? More often? What the hell had his assistant to say to this? When she'd asked him – shouted at him, really – he hadn't been able to respond and just stood there, in front of her. She'd broken off any and all contact to the old man. As nice as he was, he _was_ getting old. If he had let her husband die, what could happen to the bright young boy under her care had she entrusted him to the old man? It was cruel and a bit unreasonable, she knew, but she couldn't prevent herself from laying the blame at his feet. Chikage needed someone to blame. It didn't matter who it was, honestly.

And now she was the one going to leave their son. It was better, she told herself. Because if she looked at what was lying right in front of her, at the one fact that literally represented the hugest holes of all that they had to fight with, she just knew it was the lesser evil she'd chosen.

For Kuroba Toichi had died. He was gone for good. And he was not going to come back.

Next she saw was the floor coming up to meet her as all-encompassing darkness welcomed her into its open arms just like a mother would a daughter.

_~AMomentWhenLifeJustStops~_

When Kudo Yûsaku came to the old graveyard, he was prepared for a great many things. He had brought a card with a big exclamation mark on it as per usual and flowers with him and was prepared to be met with one big hill full of flowers in front of his friend's grave that had come from both admirers and fans alike. The older Kudo was prepared for maybe encountering the spouse or the son of his old-time rival. What he hadn't been prepared for was the way his friend's wife was laying prone on top of the grave without moving. Eyes wide as saucers, his body had begun moving before his mind had even finished forming a thought. He'd gotten to the body in record time, even by his standards.


	10. 4 Travelling And Getting To Know Thyself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. Thanks for the support!

_We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths._

_~Walt Disney_

**Moving On**

The decision to move out together had been a stunningly easy one to make.

_~MovingOn~_

When she had woken up after having fainted at the graveyard, the first thing her eyes had landed on had been her longtime friend and confidante, Kudo Yukiko with whom she had stayed in contact via letters all those years. Sitting in a chair beside the bed, Yukiko had regarded her old friend with worry in her eyes. That worry hadn't abated at all when Chikage had told her about what had been ailing her: she was still lovesick and missed her dead husband greatly. On top of that she had to make sure that Kaito was taken care of, she had confided in Yukiko. By the time she was done recounting the years after the funeral, Yukiko started with the account of what had happened after her husband had found her in that graveyard.

It turned out that Chikage had been carted off to the Kudo's residence after she'd broken down and Yûsaku hadn't found anything wrong with her physically. There, Yûsaku had made sure that a doctor had had a good look at her. The doctor hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, though, and proclaimed it to be a psychological illness. It hadn't helped calm her worried friends down any. So Yukiko had sat at her bedside until such a time as she had awoken, which wasn't until the next day.

Having heard and told so many things in the span of only five hours, both of them were feeling extremely tired. They hadn't even taken one step out of the room yet! But they didn't mind. The two women just went to sleep again, Yukiko finally moving into her own bed after she had tucked her dear friend in for the night. It was the first time in years that the widow's sleep hadn't been interrupted by nightmares.

The Kudos allowed her to stay with them for a few days. The next morning they had breakfast together. Their son Shinichi did not even question the fact that there was some strange woman sitting at their breakfast table with them, instead deciding on pulling her into the conversation and making small talk. Chikage had called home at the first opportunity that presented itself, keeping her son apprised of what she was doing. About five days later, the three adults had decided upon a course of action that seemed agreeable for all of them.

That day, Chikage called Kaito first thing in the morning to tell him that she'd be back. They had breakfast together and, after telling their son to skip school for the day and that they'd explain later why, they brought her home with the car they had rented. Once home, Chikage proceeded to pack everything she thought she'd need into two big bags she had taken from the attic – they would be leaving the country that very evening, seeing as neither her or her friends thought it prudent to stay there much longer, what with her needing professional help and the Kudos knowing someone in America who could – and agreed to – help. Privately, they also thought that the distance might be good for the older woman.

Next, Chikage rang up their neighbors in order to tell them that she would be moving out of her house and practically ordered them to take good care of Kaito. Even though she explained her reasoning, Ginzo tried arguing with her and persuading her to stay and altogether didn't appear to approve of her actions. The Kudos in the meanwhile had gone back to their house, talked to their son and packed their things into the car.

Kaito came back in the afternoon to find her waiting for him at the front door. She said goodbye to him and that she would be going off with a friend of his father's to America because she needed a holiday – it didn't seem to surprise him as much as she thought it would and that helped calm her nerves a lot – and went off to the place that the Kudos would pick her up from, safe in the belief that everything would be alright sometime soon.

_~MovingOn~_

Once they had an actual plan of what to do next, it had been surprisingly easy and swift to implement.

_~MovingOn~_

They had settled down somewhat into some kind of a routine a few months later. The house they were living in was owned by a film studio, however it was mostly unused, seeing as it was a fair distance away from the hubbub of modern society and the producers simply couldn't afford taking all the actors and the equipment there every time they wanted to shoot another movie. So it was only being used as storage place for the equipment and stage props and sets that were rarely utilized, if at all. Naturally the Kudos and their friends were free to use it, having acquired the needed reputation and connections to make such a request.

Thus, when Chikage went around the house, doing a bit of exploring after having deposited her bags in the room she had been shown to by her friends, her eyes were met with quite a few impressive and creative stage props and sets that she already had vague ideas of how to use herself, should she be allowed to.

And indeed, she used quite a few of them in the charade of making her son believe that everything was fine with her and that she was – quite literally – seeing the world during her time abroad. After all, Chikage didn't want to worry her fourteen-year-old overly much, thence she decided to play pretend – at least until she felt ready to talk about everything with him again. Because they'd quite noticeably drifted apart in the time after the funeral until she'd moved out, she knew they'd need time to reacquaint themselves with one another again.

And it didn't matter if she called the Nakamoris every other day, just to make sure that her boy was well-cared for. The Kudos did the same, therefore it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't homesickness, she told herself. It was her duty as a parent to make sure her son was well and that her house was still left standing after she'd deserted it. It wasn't her missing home, at all.

In fact, she enjoyed the time alone and in another country and made sure to tell everybody just that. Her frozen heart had thawed a bit at the care that had been bestowed on her by her friend, as well. And she had had a blast when she had discovered that there was a funfair not too far away from where they lived.

That aside, though, she did have a rather tough time abroad, too. The poor widow had a breakdown shortly after arriving in the US, clinging close to Yukiko while she was crying out her tears as though it was the last thing she'd ever do. It must have been terrifying for her confidante and it was this event whereupon Yukiko had finally gotten her to see that psychotherapist she'd recommended. He had helped her progress tremendously.

_~MovingOn~_

_Three years later_

He'd gotten close, way too close for comfort. She had to admit, the psychotherapist that Yukiko had recommended to her was good. He was brilliant, even, at what he did. It didn't mean that she had to like it, though. The prodding questions and tentatively-uttered statements were getting way too close to the one thing her thoughts had revolved about all those years ago. And she couldn't tell anybody about that.

_~MovingOn~_

Switching to Matsumoto-san's POV

Matsumoto-san, the psychotherapist, knew when to concede defeat, though. And he also knew that he wouldn't be able to get anything out of her concerning _that_ topic. But she couldn't let go of her dead husband and move on if she got stuck every time they broached the subject of just why she harbored such anger towards her dead spouse. He sighed. Matsumoto-san had tried literally every approach there was available to get somewhat closer to the mystery that was the dead magician, but every time it appeared as though he had made it to yet another milestone, his client would just close up like a shut book.

The older man knew they wouldn't be getting anywhere anytime soon. So he'd attempted to get her to talk to her son. She'd refused with such vehemence to do that, to make him think he hadn't gotten to know her at all before. Hence he had gotten her to talk about their progress, as mother and son. It was yet another dead end. Another sigh threatened to come out of his mouth, long after his troublesome client had vacated his room. It was frustrating, really, how close he was to the truth, almost being able to feel the all-solving answer to his questions and yet not getting to touch upon it, at all!

_~MovingOn~_

Switching back to Chikage's POV

It had been going well, up until that point, where Matsumoto-san had asked her to tell her son what was troubling her this much. Then she had blown up. It was her secret, her thoughts, how could she be asked to tell her son when she couldn't even tell her friends? It was a ridiculous thought, really, which was bothering her still. Her husband – and Kaitô Kid! What, really, did he think she'd do with her knowledge? She wasn't sure about what she would have done, had she known and realized earlier just what he'd been playing at. Nevertheless, she couldn't tell her son, she just couldn't!

… or could she?

And then talk about _that person_ had cropped up again. It had come from her son, this time, which was even more disquieting. Chikage had grown more and more silent during their little chats the more her son started recounting Kid heists. In detail. With even greater insight than the newspaper journalists could hope for, seeing as she'd compared quite a few of their articles to what she could still remember of his stories after they'd cut the connection. It was worrisome, truly. The only things that kept steadily circulating around in her head were the words "He's in danger!"

It was with these thoughts going through her mind that her son had finally shouted at her to come home about two months after he'd started mentioning _that person_.

_~MovingOn~_

Moving to Yukiko's POV

When Chikage had left the house for her little "rescue-mission", Yûsaku and Yukiko Kudo had finally accepted the first invitation to go back to Japan – for free – that had been sent to the house by an old friend of hers. It was silly, honestly, how her older friend had kept telling her that she'd need to save her son from dangers unknown. Chikage hadn't wanted to elaborate on that part, however judging from the knowing glint in her husband's eyes, Yukiko was sure she'd get to hear all about it later by the author of the famous "Night Baron" series. Who was still running from his editors. It was hilarious, frankly. Even though sometimes she felt he really should give the poor men chasing him a break.

Though they'd gotten fairly regular updates by their faithful neighbor, Dr. Agasa, they had felt the need to come back when these updates from January and February pretty much started resembling those from December. Scratch that, they _were_ the same.

They didn't know what had happened to their son, however apparently Hiroshi-kun didn't feel the need to inform them just what might still be going on. It was fishy, they thought, so – independently from the person that presented the very reason why they'd gone abroad in the first place – they booked a flight to Tokyo and came back home after three years of abandoning their son.

"It's been a while, dear friends", the scientist said with a nostalgic smile on his face, reminiscent of former days, when they had finally arrived in front of their own house, "A lot has happened. Now, please do come in."


	11. 5 ReVisiting Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. Cheers, Leuny.

_Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger_ _than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration._

_~Charles Dickens_

**Coming Home**

It was heart-warming, really, the way she felt when her feet finally touched upon familiar earth again after so long a time. Tears running down her cheeks, she turned to take in the old house that she'd spent half her life in. She wiped at her eyes, paid the taxi driver and set out to haul her two bags – the ones she'd started out with, originally, three years ago – up the sidewalk and through the entrance in the fence around her property. It was early in the morning– her son could most certainly be found at school, but it wasn't as close to the end of school as it was to the beginning still. She had wanted to become reacquainted with everyone and everything first, before seeing her son in person for the first time in three years.

There didn't seem to have been as many explosions as she'd feared there would be going on. The house hadn't suffered too much, apparently. That knowledge took a load off her mind that she hadn't even known was there. Entering the front door, her eyes immediately fell upon the small table in the small entrance hall. It was immaculate, as always, the way the things on it had been arranged. Frowning a bit at the tidiness in her home ( _Didn't growing boys usually leave all kinds of chaos trailing behind them? It should have been that way with_ _ **her**_ _son at least!_ ), she made her way into the old master bedroom and put the bags down on the floor there.

Almost reverently she let her hand wander over the soft duvet that covered her bed – it was still just as she'd left it. Kaito'd even washed it and changed it from time to time, she found out. Her room was as tidy and cleaned-up as could be. She was curious then, as to what her son's room would look like. Chikage remembered the chaos she'd left behind there. Chuckling quietly to herself, she wondered if Kaito had had as much sense as to clean that, too. In the silence of the house, even her chuckling sounded ominous. This had to have been what Kaito had heard and felt in the time after she'd left.

She wasn't as sure as she had been back then about her moving out being such a good idea. It must have been hard on her son. But first, she would inspect his room. With glee and anticipation reminiscent more of a five-year-old than of an older woman, she put her hand onto the door handle and pushed open the door to her son's bedroom. The sight that greeted her was nothing if not depressing. She gulped slightly into the silence that reigned in the house.

It was a room that could have belonged to anyone, really. Positioned right underneath the window, the bed was covered by a nondescript dark blue blanket, with a white pillow at the head. On the left hand side, her eyes were greeted by the familiar sight of an old cupboard that she could still remember her and her husband heaving into the room before Kaito'd even been born. It was blank now, as opposed to being covered in diverse posters of famous magicians and pictures of various stage performances of Toichi before her dear husband had died.

On the right hand side, a small table and a chair were standing – it reminded her much of the ones that had been in her room at the "stage mansion" that they'd stayed at these past three years. Nothing was lying around at all. No piece of paper, no book, and no piece of clothing lay discarded anywhere on the floor. She even bent down to look underneath the bed, but even there nothing was to be found. Was this even her son's room anymore?

When she opened the drawers of the cupboard, it was almost comforting for her to see papers with her son's handwriting on them stacked neatly together and her son's laundry in it. Just what had happened to her son in the time that she'd been gone? She deeply regretted them not being closer than they were now. They could have honestly talked about their feelings and told each other about their problems. Why was it that important again to keep her troubles from her son?

Clearing her mind by shaking her head, the next thing she did was to go to the phone and call up her neighbor at his office. A plan had formed in her mind already on the flight to Japan, and now she planned to execute it, having seen all that she had. Chikage actually managed to talk to Ginzo without him swearing up too much of a storm this time, owing that to the simple fact of her immediately telling him that she'd come home right after he had picked up the phone. He truly listened to her and kept mostly quiet all through her explanation of having the suspicion of her son being in danger somehow.

The police officer naturally wanted more details pertaining to this suspicion, but as she couldn't give him more than her feelings on this and as "feelings" simply weren't enough proof to hold up in court, he could only tell her that he'd cover her bases wherever he could. She told him of her plan and how she wanted to do it and he in turn told him that there was a letter from his wife waiting for her in his bedroom. It sounded urgent, the way he said that to her, so she honestly considered going over there and getting it.

But first she needed to call the school and pull Kaito out of it for the next two weeks ("He's visiting with family relatives" was the official excuse she'd come up with). Chikage only hoped that this short amount of time would be enough for them both to figure out a solution concerning the Kaitô Kid-situation.

In the end she did go to her neighbor's house after making several other phone calls because she still had time to spare and packing her son's things wouldn't take as long as phoning all the other people did. The keys to the neighbor's house could still be found in the third drawer of the entrance hall's small table, just as it had been before she'd left. Kaito did have his own keys, but a set of spare keys were always to be found in that drawer, in case of loss. On the letter that she did indeed find in the bedroom, in the fine handwriting that her deceased friend had used to send secret letters and messages to her often enough that she was still able to recognize it after ten years, her name was written down elegantly right above the inscription "To be opened ten years after my death".

Chikage remembered that she'd died about four years before her husband had had the "accident", so that would make this year… the eleventh! She couldn't believe it. It had already been eleven years since her dear friend had died and she hadn't thought about her as much as she'd thought about her husband and… Kaitô Kid. She felt dismayed at that thought. But she couldn't help it. That insane thief kept coming up at the most inopportune times!

She was snapped out of it when the car she had rented stopped in front of her house. She put the letter in a front pocket of one of the two bags. Good. Now the only thing she was still waiting for was her son and then they'd be able to get rid of that good-for-nothing phantom thief for good, hopefully.


	12. 6 Finding Out: Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own either Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. Have fun with this final installment!

_I remember in the circus learning that the clown was the prince, the high prince. I always thought that the high prince was the lion or the magician, but the clown is the most important._

_~Robert Benigni_

**The End of the Madness**

It had been a mad scramble for safety, she reflected, their getting there. When he'd finally come back, she'd proceeded to drag him into the house, made him pack a bag full of his things – she'd been careful to make him sort out any electronic devices, they could be bugged, after all – and gotten him out of the house and into the car in record time, she thought.

Then she'd taken the weirdest route towards their destination, all the while glancing through the rearview mirror to make sure that they hadn't been followed. Upon arriving at the small hut, she'd herded him into the house, and closed the door. Locked it, twice. She was jumpy, paranoid all through the first evening there. Kaito'd had the presence of mind to leave her alone then.

Every night since arriving there, she'd had nightmares – one after the other, about Kaitô Kid taking away her son, about her son being shot, about them being found: it was a toss-up between the bad and the worst-case events that could happen. She'd woken up almost screaming more than once. But she uttered no word to her son about those. Chikage just kept applying make-up to cover up most of the night's troubles.

On the fifth day, though, she stumbled upon the letter of her friend – the one that she'd so carelessly thrown into the front pocket of one of her bags. Chikage decided to sit down and read it. Thoroughly. Thus, she made her way into the lounge and sat down on one of the inviting couches there. She pulled the letter out of the envelope and, putting that onto the table, she began to read.

"Dear Chikage," it read,

"I hope this letter finds you well, my dear friend." Her eyes grew teary at the way her deceased friend had addressed her. "If I am not with you, sitting right beside you, while reading this, then that must mean that I am dead. In case I am still alive and kicking, please do stop reading this letter for it is quite a sad one, seeing as it is written for the case that I am not in any way alive any more.

As it is, I hope to be sitting there, on that couch, with you, but I know we don't always get what we want, ne? And I do know you read on despite me telling you not to. I do know you, Madame Curious! So please tell my husband and my dear daughter that I love both of them – and that I continue watching over them, be it in person or from the heavens above." By then Chikage had tears running down her cheeks at the precious letter that was resting in her hands just then. She decided on the spot that she would call her neighbors immediately upon finishing it.

"The reason why I am actually writing this letter right now concerns your dear husband. Tell him that he's lost our bet, by the way, should you still need to read this letter in order to find out what he should have told you eons ago. (Do that only if I didn't already do it for you)

His punishment is to hang off the wall of your house, all naked except for a small triangular loincloth and with **I'm a most magic magician** written in bold letters all around him. Please do carry it out for me in case I can't do that myself!" Chikage had to let out an unladylike snort at the image. That could have only been thought up by her dear friend, Nami, she thought. Nami, her neighbor's dead wife and only about two years her junior, had grown close to her after the Kuroba family had moved to Ekoda following that catastrophe that had happened at Kaito's previous school.

"Anyways. What I wanted to tell you – it concerns your husband (for the nth time, he should have told you about that himself already, that chicken!) and the Kaitô Kid. For – and there isn't any good or nice way to go about telling you, is there? If so, I haven't discovered it yet, and this is already the twentieth letter that I'm drafting here. (Chikage smiled at that; she could readily imagine her friend sitting at the desk, half-way through a draft and discarding it because ONE word – one single word – didn't sit right with her) – Toichi Kuroba is the same person as Kaitô Kid." Chikage felt her breath catch. That wasn't at all what she had been thinking! It cannot be right, it simply cannot be true! But if that was true, then… she had been wrong all along!

She re-read that one line "Toichi Kuroba is the same person as Kaitô Kid" about ten more times. And then ten more times. And ten more. She couldn't believe it. It refused to enter her mind. She literally drilled it into her head by repeating that one line over and over. Feeling numb and quite decidedly in shock, Chikage lost track of how many times she had read that when she finally deemed herself well enough to read on and finish the letter. Nami, her dear and old-time friend had just managed to turn her world upside down and inside out with a letter only.

"It was his night job, you see. I do believe he actually had quite a silly reason to start it, but it became serious quite quickly. There are people after him, people of the deadly sort. He has saved me from them more than once, but as consequence of that last saving act of his, I had to give up my own night job that I had originally started with reasons similar to his, I believe. I so naively believed that I could make a difference in the world, that I could stop one bad organization all by myself.

I was wrong, of course. Your husband helped me get away from them about two years before his own "official" debut as a phantom thief. "Unofficially", he made his debut when he was studying theatre at university – as the consequence of a silly bet it was, I believe. He was so innocent back then, still." Chikage couldn't believe she'd read that. She couldn't believe her friend had written that. She felt like she'd just entered another dimension and found out that people walked on their heads instead of their legs. Aghast, she continued staring at the letter, thoroughly lost in her thoughts.

That was how her son had found her.

Next she knew he had his arms all around her in an encasing embrace, having to comfort her, as all of a sudden huge sobs racked her body. She wasn't sure what to believe any more. Whom could she trust? Why had her friend written such things? Were all her worries only one big lie that she'd told herself? Was this newly-found-out truth even better than hers? Her mind was going in circles, always coming back to the two words "Tell him". So she did.

_~TheEndOfTheMadness~_

And her son, her dear, dear son, listened attentively, just as he'd done all those years ago, at the funeral. "I am so sorry, Kaito! I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry!" those words were the first to come out of her mouth when she'd finally calmed down some. "I hadn't known – and how could I? – that stupid magician! I was so wrong about – everything was directly under my nose! Right there! – how couldn't I have seen what was right in front of me? – all this time – he put everything right in front of me! – all those little things, all those hints and clues – and I was _so_ wrong all this time! – all this time I've tormented myself with that question – how could I have been so arrogant to think that I _knew_ what he had been trying to tell me all along?" It was a jumble of words that descended on the poor boy just like an avalanche. The mountain of words that she'd obviously not said to anybody else threatened to follow.

He let her say all of these words and more. It didn't mean that he could make heads and tails of what she was trying to tell him – or was she talking to herself, then? – but he let her get rid of whatever was so obviously eating at her. Kaito would get his answers soon enough, he knew.

When she had calmed down and stopped for breath after having let off yet another torrent of words, he saw his chance and butted in. "What exactly do you mean? What didn't you see? What is this all about?" The young amateur magician didn't think she'd be able to cope with more than three questions right then, so he forcefully cut himself off, even though he knew those questions were quite far-reaching, too.

Teary-eyed, she glanced up into his eyes again. "I am so sorry." She said with a clarity that belied her previous confusion. "I had thought – your father. He was Kaitô Kid, wasn't he?" Staring straight into his eyes, she asked him. His eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline at that moment. He'd thought she had already known about this!

Naturally, he didn't lie to her; she was his _mother_ , for god's sake! "Y-Yes. – Yes. Otou-san was Kaitô Kid." Her shoulders went down all of a sudden. It seemed almost as though she was relieved about this confirmation. As though she had thought something far direr had happened. His eyes couldn't open any wider if he tried. "What - … No, _why_ would you ask that now of all times?"

"This letter, I think you should read this, too. He really was a phantom thief, was he? And now you're following in his footsteps, aren't you?"

"…" His mouth was opening and closing of its own accord, without any noises escaping him. He didn't know anymore just what questions he'd been about to ask before. What had happened? What **had** she thought her husband had been doing, all those years ago?

"Yes."

The young magician's mind felt like mush and he didn't think he could think straight at that moment in time. However, he got some of his questions out, still.

"What did you think he'd been doing? What did you think _**I**_ was doing? And why in god's name did you act this paranoid when you didn't know that I was Kid?" Finally, something started to make sense, once he spoke it out loud. In the silence of his mother, his mind worked to move into gear. He could already feel it working, starting to pick up the puzzle pieces and connect them to form one grand image. Kaito didn't like what he saw, at all.

Slowly, he started.

"You thought the Kaitô Kid would do something. To me. And you thought that Kid had already been doing something – to my father. That's why you acted like you did. Now, the most important question left is: What did you think he'd been doing to us?"

Chikage's mouth was open like a fish gasping for water for a few more moments, before she finally said something. "I was young, very inexperienced – and jumping to conclusions." She looked at her son imploringly. "I know that now. I didn't have to think what I did. And the world would have probably been better off without me thinking those thoughts. But at the time, it only made sense. And it scared me. I mean, what if it had been true?" She got teary-eyed again. But she couldn't help it. It had been a frightening moment when she had found out that her dear husband – might not be hers alone any more.

_~TheEndOfTheMadness~_

Incredulous and with the hint of relief and laughter at the absurdity of her story in his eyes, Kaito had listened to her story – all the while struggling to remain quiet in the face of what he was presented with.

"So, let me get this straight." He got out with a slightly shaking voice – was it from laughter? Was it because of the desperate irony that was noticeable in her account? You couldn't tell – when she had finally finished telling him everything about all those years and what had been going on in her head.

"You thought that Kaitô Kid was a woman trying to seduce dad. And when Kid came up again in the chats we had, you thought Kid was seducing me, too." At her nod, he wearily closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, all the while having a ridiculously out-of-place grin tugging at his face.

When he opened his eyes again, she only noticed an almost mischievous sparkle in them for one very short moment before it burst out. "Kid's **male** , woman! Both dad and I are straight!" he almost shouted at her.

She calmly responded to his outburst with the words "That's why I thought that phantom thief Kid couldn't be male. At the time, that tidbit about Kid being male or female wasn't known yet, you have to consider. _He_ could have been a _she_ , just as well. It was far more bearable for me, to think of Kid as a woman, you have to see. If your father had been gay – I wouldn't have been able to stand the embarrassment."

Kaito blamed it on the late hour and the five days of pandemonium that living with his mum simply presented that had mucked around with his head too much, because everything she was saying sounded absolutely sane and logical to him, not to mention perfectly reasonable, too. Something made him frown, though. "And what role did you think Kid had in killing dad?"

"I had thought that your father had gotten too close to something that Kid and he were trying to find out. I didn't know how close I was to the real truth. Though I knew immediately upon receiving the message that your father was dead that it couldn't possibly have been an accident that killed him. I know my husband. He wouldn't have been clumsy or anything but a perfectionist. He was immaculate when it came to the maintenance of his magic props and things." Chikage said the last thing rather more vehemently than she had intended to. But she didn't take back what she'd said. It was the truth.

"Yet you still thought that dad would abandon us that easily. And you thought he was in love with Kid, on top of that." It was like a switch had been flipped within her mind, when he started defending both him and his father in front of her. It was a very welcome relief, really, for Chikage, to see just with how much fervor her son tore apart her carefully built-up construct of reality. He tore it to pieces, quite literally, and she could see them fall down right in front of her eyes. What a calming and relaxing effect that had on her! Naturally, her son could see that a tiny bit of her – hidden within the very veeery deep confines of her mind – still held onto the theory with all its might. But he slowly made that part of her, too, see reason.

It made her smile, even, just how much of a fool she'd been and let herself be. Willingly, even, she had run into her conclusions that had been proved oh-so-wrong in the end. Finally, she could find the peace she had wanted to find all those years ago, when she had been standing at the grave and hadn't been sure whom to blame. She realized, with fresh tears glistening in her relieved smiling eyes, that almost all the blame lay with her. All this time, it had been right there, with her. She should have just loved her husband unconditionally and accepted his death. Life wasn't easy, she could now really relate to that saying. And sometimes it liked throwing you loops that you had to find your way out of while being tied up, deaf, blind and mute. Somehow, with the help of other people (she glanced gratefully at her son at that thought), you were able to make the jump through the doorstep that led to hell. She'd been able to make it. In the now-peaceful quietness of her heart and mind, all Chikage did then was fervently hope that she'd never ever make such idiotic mistakes again.

_~TheEndOfTheMadness~_

Days later found mother and son at the dinner table, the magician-to-be making animated gestures at her that went with what he had told her just previously about a giant octopus making an appearance at his school last year. (He wouldn't tell her just what had happened after _someone_ had announced himself to be from mars right in front of his teacher and the class, but, knowing her son, she could very well figure that out by herself.)

It wasn't the perfect family idyll, she couldn't help thinking, her gaze slowly sliding over to rest on a picture of the three of them together in a moment of inattention on Kaito's side. But they were getting there. With time, everything would be resolved, she knew. Smiling, she moved her attention back to the subject at hand and made all the appropriate noises of surprise and anticipation at all the right moments, a growing smirk on her face and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

In the end, Kaito didn't know what hit him when all of a sudden a pillow hit him in the back of his head. The fight was on.

AN: _Love is the magician that pulls man out of his own hat._

_~Ben Hecht_

_Love is the magician that pulls woman out of her own tiny little cavern at the end of the world that she has dug up with her own hands and hidden herself in, in the hopes that the reality she has thought up for herself will never be the truth, but fearing the worst._

_~Leuny's very own, changed version of that quote._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: "Otou-san" is Japanese and means "father"


	13. Extra: It's Colder, Regardless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own either Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. Enjoy!

_The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra._

_~Jimmy Johnson_

**It's Colder, Regardless**

Nakamori Aoko's POV

She hadn't been sure what to do once her childhood friend reappeared. Her father had had a talk with her the day after the Kuroba family had driven off to who-knew-where about why he'd been pulled from school this abruptly and just what the inspector thought was going on between mother and son. He had been nervous. And he had omitted things. She had the strong feeling that those were dangerous things that he hadn't told her. But she wasn't entirely sure if she actually wanted to know or if she liked being kept in the dark about just what those were.

Truth was, by the time that Kaito returned to school one morning, about two weeks after he'd so quickly disappeared, Aoko didn't know what to say to him anymore. Was he in danger still? What exactly did that "danger" consist of, anyways? That had been the only logical conclusion she had been able to draw from what her father had told her and not told her: that her long-time friend and his mother were in danger. Which was – obviously – why she'd come back: she'd whisked him away to safety.

However the fact that he had reappeared as soon as after two weeks only left her wondering. This simply didn't make sense! Or had the criminals after them ( _for it could only have been criminals that they had gone into hiding for_ ) been apprehended already? It struck Aoko as too soon to have everything blow over like it had never happened.

Out of the corners of her eyes she furtively observed the teenage-magician. He was behaving as he would any other day. The pervert had already flipped her skirt, he'd somehow painted Hakuba's hair ( _he was standing in front of and berating the wanna-be-magician for the n_ _th_ _time that morning, probably de novo for something he hadn't done, Aoko had stopped paying attention – like the rest of the class – after the first rant involving a certain thief whose name best stayed unmentioned around her vicinity or she couldn't be held responsible for her actions any more_ ) violet – without the detective himself noticing yet – and was by now entertaining the small group of admirers he had in their class. It was the normal routine. And it drove her mad!

Yet, she had noticed him shooting her strange looks from time to time, as though unsure what to make of her, either. She had to concede, she supposed, that she was behaving rather weirdly that day. But that was only because of that stupid magician-to-be! It wasn't her fault when he threw her off track this much as to send her into pensive moods every so often!

_~It'sColder,Regardless~_

It was only when they were sitting in the Nakamori's living room after school – Kaito had missed out two weeks, after all, and they wouldn't magically appear in his head, no matter how hard he tried and willed it to come to pass – and studying that they came to talk about what had happened those past two weeks. Or, more precisely, after a bit of watching him catch up, Aoko had finally opened her mouth and asked him.

"Kaito?"

She received an unintelligible grunt which she took to mean she could go on.

"I was wondering… What happened?" Expectantly, she stared at him, willing him to spill whatever secrets he had.

When he looked up from homework, though, all she got was a confused look. It was one of those looks, again. Those that he had kept sending her all day. And in the quiet of her own home it seemed to pierce through her like glass would through paper. After a lengthy pause, he replied.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean… the last two weeks. What happened? Why did your mother come back after so long a time just to steal you away like some kind of thief?" Did she imagine it or did he truly wince at that? Well, she did want to talk to him about why his mother had left, too. No hiding would be allowed any longer if she had anything to say about it! Aoko really wanted to know _everything_ that had been going on.

Abandoning his writing utensils and school work altogether, it took a moment before he gathered himself and answered her questions.

"I-… How to say?" Throwing a look at the ceiling he appeared to reflect just what he wanted to tell her. Or how to phrase it. With Kaito, you could never really tell if it was one or the other. Stupid magicians!

(AN: _Without knowing it, she had just then echoed the earlier sentiments of a certain magician's wife that was by then subject of their conversation_ )

"You do know how my mom came back about two weeks ago? Well, (he threw another indecipherable look at the ceiling for good measure) she **is** back now. At least for a little while. As soon as she's bored, she's bound to up and leave again to somewhere else." He said that last part with a fond little smile which – along with all the other strange behaviors that day – threw Aoko for a loop anew.

"But she's back now?" Aoko had to clarify that point. Getting a nod, she ventured on, "Why did she leave in the first place?"

"That was… well. It's not entirely _my_ story, you understand? I can't tell you much about it. Frankly, if you want the whole story, you should probably go ask my mom." Aoko knew, though, that there was something else about _his_ story that he still was adamant about not telling her. But she left it alone for now.

"So you can't tell me anything at all about the last two weeks?" Puppy-dog-eyes on, bottom lip protruding slightly, and she knew she'd get at least _**something**_ out of him, a small part though it was.

"Well, I _can_ tell you that everything between mom and me is now alright." He relented, giving her a slightly panicked, frightened kind of look. Her childhood friend never could resist her charms. And he knew it, too.

However she hadn't expected _that_ as the next thing coming out of his mouth. Thus, still attempting to work this into her view of the world, all she could do was ask, "It is?"

Kaito nodded. "It is." Throwing the ceiling another look, as though it held the answer to all his questions, he picked up the red thread that he'd managed to throw into their conversation. "You know how she was after the funeral? How she was getting worse and worse?" A nod. Aoko had seen it, after all. No matter how much the older woman had played it down, she was letting through things from time to time, and those had worried Aoko deeply. When she'd up and left like that, Aoko had been furious, though. How could she have left her son all alone? Even though she still had called every few weeks, sometimes months; that still didn't excuse her running off like that!

And she hadn't been able to understand just how Kaito had managed to make it through that time, either. Though the girl was sure that it had helped greatly when her father and she had given the boy an open invitation into their house.

But apparently, mother and son had finally resolved that situation.

"She's gone abroad and… seen quite a few things there.

A shrink being one of those, apparently."

Her mind ground to a halt. So she'd finally, – _**finally**_! – accepted outside help? Aoko couldn't believe it! According to her dad ( _and his rants are sources for many different things_ ), Chikage had refused help when he'd given her an address of a family friend's psychologist. So now she'd finally given in.

"They've talked a lot. And she's still in contact with him – doing a session every week, it seems." And Kaito could attest to that. He'd personally seen Matsumoto-san's profile on the computer screen just two days before and knew they did hold their sessions regularly, even while being parted by an ocean. ( _You just gotta love the internet sometimes! It truly_ _ **does**_ _connect the world._ )

"He's a pretty good psychoanalyst, apparently. A friend of her has recommended him to her. I've only talked to him once so far, but everything really appears to go into the right direction, according to him. Ah! That reminds me. Matsumoto-san has rather accurately described our relationship as being on the South Pole at the moment. It will take some time, he said, but soon it should go back towards the equator again, where it belongs. Though I rather _do_ _like_ the South Pole…"

Aoko's mind, in the meanwhile, had a shut-down for a millisecond there. ( _ **Our**_ _relationship?_ ) Fortunately, she caught up to what was going on ( _he'd meant_ _ **their**_ _relationship: mother-son!_ ) and in her mind's eye hit herself for her momentary stupidity. Of course that psychologist wouldn't know her. Then her mind really caught up with what he'd said.

"Why do you like the South Pole? It's freezing! And besides, all that snow…"

"But that's exactly the thing! You could play in the snow and have fun all day! You could build snow castles, snow men and have snowball fights all the time! The snow is white – a snow castle or a flower made of snow would look beautiful! It's a cool place to be and I definitely want to go visit the South Pole at least once!" He was working himself into a babbling rant and it was grating on her nerves. Besides, talk of all the snow and the merits of the South Pole were making her shiver and look for the closest blanket to cover herself with.

"Oh, whatever! I don't care about having fun as much as about being _warm_! I'm just glad we're in Japan! It's colder _**there**_ , regardless of how much you advertise it! Now, get on with your homework! I still want to finish in time for dinner!" With a decidedly bossy tone she pointed towards the school work.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"I'm a MISS!"

"Miss Ma'am!" There he went, grinning again. And with only three short phrases, all was well in their world again. Nevertheless, she decided that she would go see Kaito's mom the next morning, when she went over to Kaito's house to (wake) pick him up. Then she'd hopefully get her answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Wow, this has gotten longer than I thought. And actually, it has totally abandoned the way that I'd given it to follow. Sometimes, I just love my characters. And sometimes, they just go and tell me to "shut up" and be a good little author and just write down whatever they want. To veer them onto the right track again (I DID want to explain the title originally, didn't I?) My characters didn't want to and decided – at the very beginning – that I could just add it in (as a small, minor little detail, mind) at the very end somehow. (Never mind that it doesn't really seem to fit there)
> 
> Anyways, writing this story has been fun and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing! It was a blast, having you as readers and to receive reviews, even!
> 
> I loved watching the traffic stats (yes, beta, I'm addicted now) – and I can tell you now that I hadn't originally planned on getting this many readers, truth be told. Nevertheless, I'm happy about it all the same! Now, the only things left for me to tell you are the following:
> 
> THANK YOU VERY, VERY, VERY MUCH FOR READING!
> 
> Have A Very Merry Christmas! And A Happy New Year!

**Author's Note:**

> This work was published on the 1.11.2011 and last updated and finished on the 23.12.2011.


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